


Just Say Yes

by magicgamble



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Fluff, M/M, and when I say fluff I mean FLUFF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8511883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicgamble/pseuds/magicgamble
Summary: Okay, I've decided that I need a place to put all my Jackcrutchie fluff, and this is going to be it.





	1. Sleepy!Crutchie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crutchie is very tired but refuses to go back to bed. Jack finds both this, and the way his boyfriend looks in pajamas, adorable.

Jack loved Crutchie in pajamas. 

He was cute all the time, of course, but with rumpled hair, sleeves that were too long, and baggy plaid drawstring pants, Jack seriously doubted anything could compare. 

"Crutch, what are you doing up?" He asked as his boyfriend walked into the kitchen. 

"I'm not tired," Crutchie mumbled, rubbing his eyes. 

Jack stifled a laugh. "Yes you are."

"No." His eyes were droopy, his legs were dragging even more than usual, and his hair was sticking up at odd angles. 

"Crutchie," Jack chuckled. "Go back to bed. You stayed up so late last night."

Crutchie frowned. "I'm fine, Jack," he insisted, moving past him to the pantry. He grabbed the box of Cookie Crisp and Jack handed him a bowl from the top shelf. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Jack said. "Honey, are you sure you don't want to head back to sl-"

Crutchie turned on him with a completely unintimidating stare, and Jack once again tried to keep a straight face. Crutchie noticed, and raised his eyebrows as he poured his cereal. His eyes were still droopy, making his indignance even more adorable. "Don't you laugh at me," he said. "Not when I'm making an effort to spend time with you." His words were slurred, and if Jack hadn't known how late he'd been up working, he would've assumed he was drunk. 

Jack took a drink of his orange juice. "Sorry. You just look so cute right now. Also, for someone who is completely awake, you just poured the most disgusting bowl of cereal ever."

Crutchie looked at him strangely, and then down at his bowl, which he had just poured orange juice into. Jack had left the carton out on the counter, and it had easily been mistaken for milk. Crutchie frowned, but then grinned, and finally laughed- a raspy, morning laugh that sent Jack's heart into a frenzy. 

"Tired?" Jack asked again.

Crutchie nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay, come on." Jack put his hands on Crutchie's crutch, giving him time to stabilize himself on the counter, and then leaned it against the fridge, scooping Crutchie up in his arms in the very next motion. 

Crutchie's head immediately fell against Jack's shoulder, and he breathed out a sigh of contentment as Jack carried him back to their room. 

"Jack?" He mumbled, his eyes closed.

"Yeah?"

"Don't let me sleep too long, 'kay?"

"Why not?" Jack asked. "Katherine cancelled on lunch, so we don't have anything planned for today."

"I know," Crutchie replied. "Which is why..." he trailed off, yawned, and then continued, "which is why I want to be with you for as long as I can."

Jack rolled his eyes, mostly because he had no idea what else to do with the level of cute he was currently facing. "Okay," he agreed. "I won't let you sleep for too long. Just until I think you're good and rested."

"Promise?" 

They were in the bedroom now, and Jack set Crutchie down on their bed gently. "Promise."

Crutchie sighed again as Jack pulled the blanket up around his shoulders. "Just a little bit," he said, peeking up at Jack through eyes that just wouldn't stay open. "Then come wake me up."

Jack chuckled. "Yes, okay, okay," he repeated. "Crutchie, will you get to sleep already?"

Crutchie closed his eyes, nuzzled his head down into the pillow, and let out a breath. "Okay."

Jack watched him for a minute- the steady, deep breaths that moved his shoulders, the smooth contentment on his face, the messy hair laying across the pillow- and smiled. 

"Love ya, kid," he said, kissing him softly on the forehead before letting himself out.

If he'd looked back, he would've seen a slow smile spread across Crutchie's lips.


	2. Dressing Room Shenanigans

Jack!” Crutchie said from behind the dressing room door.

  
Jack jolted up, having been lost in his sketchbook while he waited. “Yeah?”

  
The door swung open, and Crutchie stepped out in a blue polo with red stars on it. “What do you think?”

  
Jack smirked, closing his sketchbook and tucking it in his back pocket. “Very patriotic.”

  
“Well, it is Independence Day,” Crutchie reminded him. “Come on, where's your spirit?”

  
Chuckling, Jack said, “I don't know. Where'd all yours come from?”

  
Crutchie’s mouth fell open as he adjusted the shirt in the mirror. “You know how much I love the Fourth of July!”

  
Jack thought back to previous years and shrugged. “I guess so. But you like all the holidays, Crutch.”

  
Crutchie turned. “Yeah!” He agreed. “And you knew this about me going into this, so don't act surprised now.”

  
Jack shook his head and stood up, making his way towards Crutchie. “Turn around,” he said, wagging his finger in a circle.

  
Crutchie grinned and spun, showing off all angles of the shirt. “Well?” He asked.

  
Jack nodded. “You look great. It really suits you.”

  
Still smiling, Crutchie bounded back into the dressing room. “Good!” he said, and then reappeared with another one, two sizes larger. “And it'll look great on you, too.”

  
“Crutchie!” Jack protested, taking the shirt in his hands all the same. “I don't want to do this.”

Crutchie, who had turned to rearrange the hanging shirts on a rack, didn't respond.

  
“It's not that you shouldn't wear it,” Jack tried. “It's just that I’m not sure if-”

  
Suddenly Crutchie turned, a despondent look on his face. His shoulders were slumped.  
Jack’s chest panged. “Oh, Crutchie, listen,” he said, taking a few steps forward. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-”

  
Before he knew what had happened, Crutchie stood on his toes and pressed his lips up onto Jack’s, pleasantly shocking him into dropping the shirt. Neither of them pulled away for a long moment, and then Crutchie stepped back and grinned, as if he'd never been upset. Jack realized he'd been played.

  
“You're cute when you get like that,” Crutchie commented, and then picked up the shirt and pressed it into Jack’s hands again. “So, just try on the shirt, okay?”

  
“Yeah, okay,” Jack agreed, walking into the dressing room. “But you owe me!”

  
“Uh huh. Sure, Jack,” he muttered, and when Jack came out in the ridiculously patriotic polo, Crutchie smiled and pulled him into the view of the mirror. Trying not to freak out about the fact that this opened up the path for a Halloween couples costume, Crutchie said, “we look nice together.”

  
“Sometimes I forget how much shorter you are than me,” Jack said, smiling at their reflections.  
“I don't,” Crutchie said, “cause it makes it hard to get up there and kiss you.”

  
Jack laughed. “Oh my god.”

  
“I'm serious!” Crutchie chuckled, and Jack’s hand wrapped around his waist, pulling him in.

  
“I know. Here, I'll help you out,” Jack offered, leaning down and meeting Crutchie’s lips with his own. Sometimes Crutchie still couldn't believe that they were together. After years of nurturing the biggest crush in the world, Jack Kelly was actually his boyfriend. It still felt too good to be true. The kiss had gone on for a little too long to be appropriate in public when Jack pulled away and said, “OKAY, but you know what would be hilarious?”

“What?”

“Let's get a pair for Race and Spot, too.”

Crutchie laughed, imagining those two in matching polos. “That would be hilarious,” he said. “But we'd be dead.”

  
Jack moved his head back and forth as if he were thinking about it, then nodded. “Yeah, not the best idea.”

  
“I like the enthusiasm, though,” Crutchie said.

  
“So… do you wanna make out in the dressing room?” Jack asked.

  
The word was out of Crutchie’s mouth before Jack was done asking the question. “Absolutely.”


	3. First Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Crutchie meet for the first time.

The kid had been following Jack for the last six blocks. Jack would turn and catch him retreating into an alley, or behind another pedestrian, and then a minute later they’d repeat the same game of hide and seek. It was actually starting to get on Jack’s nerves.

Sighing, Jack stopped on the sidewalk and turned, catching sight of the kid ducking into a bakery doorway. “I know you’re there,” Jack called out. “You ain’t quick enough.”

The kid’s head popped back out of the doorway, and, confirming that he’d been caught, the rest of him came out and stood in front of Jack on the sidewalk.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked. “You got somethin’ to say to me, or what?”

The kid, who carried a crutch under his right arm, looked down at his ratty shoes and shook his head. Jack hadn’t gotten a good look at him before, but now he could see that he was almost Jack’s age. Probably about two years younger—nine or ten. Still, his small frame made him seem like someone who Jack could continue to call a kid.

“What’re you followin’ me for, then?” Jack asked. “Don’t you have someplace to be?”

The kid adjusted his crutch, then shook his head again.

“No? You got any family?”

Another shake.

Jack sighed. “Alright, talk. What’re you don’ followin’ me, then?”

The kid took a large breath, then said, “I saw you fight off those thugs.”

“Thugs?” Jack wracked his memory, trying to figure out what was being referred to. “Oh,” he sighed. “You mean the Delanceys.”

The kid shrugged “I don’t know their names, but they’s always stirrin’ up trouble, and you always handle ‘em.”

“So you’s scared of ‘em, and you want me to protect you. Is that it?”

The kid shook his head adamantly, making his hair, which was too long, flop over his eyes. He pushed it away brusquely with one hand, and insisted, “I don’t want anyone doin’ nothin’ like that for me.”

Jack chuckled. The kid was short, scrawny, homeless, and crippled, but he refuted Jack’s assumption as if he could afford to find it offensive. “Okay, spit it out then. If you don’t want me to protect you, what do you want?”

“I—” the kid shrugged. “I’ve seen you sellin’ newspapers.”

“Oh,” Jack was beginning to understand. “Do you need help gettin’ started?”

The kid nodded, frowning a bit, as if he was ashamed of it. “I think I could be good at it,” he said, “but I don’t have any money to buy any to start out with.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Jack said. “Hey, how long since you’ve eaten?”

The kid shrugged once again. “I don’t know. A while.”

By the look of him, it was probably a _long_ while. Jack frowned, not liking the thought of his new friend going hungry. He knew how hard it was to live on the streets. The newsies had been a godsend to him. In fact, he was sure he’d be dead by now if he’d never started selling papes. This kid in front of him probably had even less of a chance of making it than Jack had, and a sudden image of him starving to death in an alley somewhere made Jack reach out a hand to grab his arm. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll take you home.”

“Home?” the kid asked.

“Yeah.”

The kid’s face scrunched up in confusion, causing the freckles clustered on his nose to bunch together. “Where is that?”

“The Lodging House,” Jack explained, beginning to walk again. “Don’t worry, there’s a bunch of us there who’ve been in your shoes before.”

“But- but I can’t pay for it,” the kid protested, slowing a little, as if preparing himself to be turned away.

“I’m gonna cover you,” Jack told him. “Just until you get back on your feet.” The kid said nothing, and Jack turned to face him. “What? Do you not want­—?”

“No, I do!” the kid hurried, “And… and it’s right nice of you to help me out.”

Jack waited. “But…?”

“But I don’t know a thing about sellin’ newspapers.”

Jack gave him a smile, patting him on the shoulder. “Hey, kid, don’t worry about it. You learn from me, you learn from the best. Besides, with that leg of yours, you’ll be out-sellin’ all of us in a heartbeat.”

The kid frowned. “I don’t want any handouts.”

“I know you don’t,” Jack assured him. “Now, come on. We don’t want to miss dinner.”

The kid took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and then continued down the sidewalk. Jack started off slower, so he could fall in step with him. “You got a name?” he asked.

It was a minute before he got a response. “You can just call me Crutchie.”

Jack wrinkled his nose. “Really?”

“Yeah,” was the reply. “It’s easy to remember.”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Okay, Crutchie.”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Jack,” he said, giving Crutchie another smile. “And you know what? I think we’s gonna be a pretty good team.”


	4. I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack has some trouble sleeping, but waking up Crutchie proves to be helpful.

The walls of the lodging house weren’t thick enough to keep out the frigid January wind that howled outside. The newsies all slept—or tried to sleep—with their blankets pulled all the way up under their chins, and many of them still wore their hats and gloves.

Jack was restless. He was freezing, sure, but that wasn’t a good enough excuse for not sleeping. If he wanted to make any money in the morning, he needed to get in at least a little shut-eye. Groaning, he turned over in bed and faced the other direction, hopeful that the adjustment would magically fix his problem. It didn’t, of course, but it did allow him to notice Crutchie, in the next bunk over, shivering. His blanket had fallen on the floor, but he was still asleep, curling in on himself to keep warm. Jack jumped out of bed and padded over to his side.

He grabbed the blanket from the floor and quickly laid it over the sleeping boy, tucking it in underneath him.

He hadn’t meant to wake him, so he winced when Crutchie’s eyes peeked open, squinting up at Jack. “What happened?” he asked, his words slurring.

Jack shook his head, unable to stop the tired smile from appearing on his lips. “Go back to sleep,” he said.

Crutchie blinked a few times, looking around the room. “It’s still dark,” he noticed.

“Yeah, it’s the middle of the night.”

“Then what are you doing up?”

Jack sighed, exasperatedly tilting his head up to the ceiling and then down again. “Your blanket fell on the floor and you was shiverin’,” he explained. “It’s not a big deal. Go back to sleep.”

Crutchie nodded dutifully, curling up under the covers and closing his eyes. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” Jack replied, before making his way back to his own bed.

Once underneath the covers again, he turned back around to face the other side of the room, and stared at the rattling window for a good ten minutes. He was starting to get annoyed with his body’s inability to sleep, and was worried about how it would affect him the next day--he got grouchy when he was tired. Sighing, he rolled over again, and saw that Crutchie’s eyes were open, too, fixed on the floor between their bunks. _Great. Look what you did, Jack._

“Hey, Crutchie,” Jack whispered.

Crutchie looked up and met his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I’se sorry I woke you up.”

“S’okay,” he said. “At least now I ain’t gonna freeze to death.”

Jack smiled slightly, but before he could respond, Crutchie said, “Hey Jack?”

“Hmmm?”

A beat passed. “Can I come over there with you?”

Jack hesitated for the briefest of moments before saying, “Yeah, come on over,” and making a space for him on the bed.

Crutchie sat up and, using the wall for balance, crossed the short distance to Jack’s bunk. He lowered himself down, but seemed to be trying to take up as little space as possible. Jack rolled his eyes as he tossed the blanket over the both of them. “Oh, come on,” he said, “You ain’t gonna take up too much room.”

Crutchie smiled and nestled deeper into the pillow, and Jack scooted a little closer.

“This is warmer,” Crutchie said, already yawning.

“Yeah, for sure,” Jack agreed.

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Don’t be an idiot. ‘Course it is. We used to share a bunk all the time, remember?”

Crutchie nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “We was just kids back then,” he uttered.

Jack wasn’t sure how long it had been since they’d been bunkmates, but they fit so nicely together now that it was as if no time had passed at all.

“Well, you was right, anyway,” Jack said. “This is warmer.”

A minute or two went by, and Jack smiled a bit as he watched the sleepy boy, no longer shivering, drift off again. Crutchie curled up closer to him, eventually grabbing his arm and cuddling it, but Jack didn’t move an inch. The bed was barely big enough for the two of them, but Jack decided that it had been a good idea to share. He could already feel himself getting tired. Lazily, he brought his un-cuddled arm up to move some of Crutchie’s hair away from his eyes. It was getting too long again; Crutchie always neglected to cut it until he was reminded. While Jack stroked through his hair, Crutchie’s chest expanded in a sigh, and his lips twitched upward, and for a second, Jack thought that he had woken him again. He was relieved when Crutchie’s expression relaxed, and his breath settled back down into a steady rhythm of _in, out, in, out._

To be safe, Jack moved his hand back to his side, content to watch the peaceful boy beside him until he, too, drifted off to sleep.


End file.
